Single Second
by lostsoul512
Summary: It's funny how in a single second, a person can relive an entire lifetime of memories. ((One-shot, CRxAW))


**A/N: So, I decided to write you guys a little one shot because I've been taking too long on Barely Breathing. As usual, I don't own anything. Dedicated to Erin, who will forever be the Piers to my Chris. Mwah. **

It's funny how in a single second, a person can relive an entire lifetime of memories. One blink, one inhalation of air to the lungs, and a thousand flashbacks are plaguing his mind.

A hand on his shoulder is all it takes. That, and the soft voice calling out from behind him. "You okay, Captain?"

A single second. A lifetime of memories.

Once upon a time, Chris Redfield had been young and eager too, just as Piers Nivans was now. He would learn, though, he would quickly learn that the world was a bleak place, and hope was a wasted emotion. He would learn not to get attached to people. Chris could still feel Piers hand on his shoulder, but in his mind he was far, far away.

…

"You okay, Captain?"

Chris asked lightly, leaning against the desk in Wesker's office. It was well past time for him to go home, but something seemed to be keeping him back. Maybe it was the way Wesker had looked so stressed, hunched over his desk and frantically scribbling notes on some papers before him.

Of course, Chris had known the blonde for some time now, and Wesker always appeared to be stressed about one thing or another. He never relaxed, never let his guard down. It was admirable, sure, but Chris had to wonder what Wesker was so afraid of. Surely having one night off wouldn't kill the man.

Wesker glanced up at Chris, his gaze shielded by the dark glasses he wore. "Fine, Christopher," he said in that biting tone of his. The one that was silently saying to get out, leave him alone, because Wesker was the kind of person who enjoyed the isolation.

Chris knew he should take the hint, go home and leave the older man to his solitude. But something was holding him back, making it impossible for him to leave. He could feel Wesker's burning gaze still upon him, but couldn't bring himself to meet it.

"Something else, Christopher?" Wesker drawled as he shuffled through the papers atop his desk.

Chris frowned slightly at the question. Was there something else? There had to be, or else he wouldn't still just be standing there, frozen. He just couldn't think of it at the moment. "No," he said gruffly, running a hand through his short hair. "Sorry to bother you, Captain." As he said this, he forced himself to start walking towards the door. Each footstep felt like miles, each second like years.

Just as he reached the doorway, Wesker called him back. Chris glanced at him over his shoulder. To his immense surprise, the blonde had a slight smile tugging at his lips. "You might as well help me file these papers."

…

"You okay, Captain?"

Chris was sitting in the passenger seat of Wesker's black car, eyes fixed straight out the window. Of course he car had to break down, and Wesker had to be the only one around to take him home. The blonde had been unnaturally silent the whole time they'd been in the car, but then his unfriendliness had stopped surprising Chris some time ago.

"Fine," Wesker growled from the driver's seat, in a tone that clearly indicated he was anything but fine. His hands were gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white under his already pale skin.

Chris sighed uncomfortably, shifting his weight a little. The interior of the car was all black leather, completely pristine. Not a single scuff anywhere in sight. Not that this surprised Chris at all; Wesker was known for being a perfectionist.

The brunette stole a glance at his superior, observing the way Wesker sat straight up and never tore his gaze off the road. His face was arranged into a deep scowl. "You don't seem fine," Chris said, without really thinking. "I could have just walked, if it was such a problem."

"I don't care about driving you home, Christopher," Wesker snapped, taking a sharp left onto Chris' street. "Or I wouldn't have agreed to do it. Not everything is about you, you know."

Chris chewed anxiously on the insides of his cheeks. "Okay, okay," he said swallowing hard. "Sorry I said anything."

He couldn't have been happier when they stopped in front of his house. Something about being trapped in that car was completely suffocating, as if all the oxygen had been sucked right out of the small space. He couldn't breathe, couldn't gather any of this thoughts. Wesker's presence was like a thick fog looming over him, making it so that he couldn't see the rest of the world.

The lights were all off, meaning Claire was probably out. Oh well. Sometimes Chris liked his solitude too. "Thanks," he muttered, hand reaching for the door.

"Christopher, wait-"

A hand on his shoulder. Chris' breath hitched in his throat as he forced himself to look back at the blonde. All the possible things he could have said were stuck in the back of his throat. His heartbeat was racing in his chest under the intensity of the moment. When at last he found his voice to speak, the chance was stolen by the feeling of Wesker leaning in and pressing his lips to Chris' own.

Shock wasn't the right word to describe what Chris was feeling. The kiss was gentle, but it was laced with an edge of desperation, of need. Chris didn't know what to do with that, exactly. It was hard for him to believe Wesker needed anything.

"Have a good night," Wesker said simply, when he had pulled away.

"Yeah," Chris murmured, his own tone sounding dazed and weak. "You too, Captain."

…

"You okay, Captain?"

Chris adjusted himself where he laid, head on Wesker's shoulder, their legs entwined with each other and the sheets. The blonde had his own gaze trained on the ceiling, but Chris knew he was looking far beyond that. Wesker had a tendency to get lost in his own head, and Chris had long since learned that trying to bring him back was pointless.

Wesker made a low sound in the back of his throat that sounded something like a growl, but that was the extent of acknowledgement he gave the younger man. Chris fought off a sigh of frustration. Wesker always seemed to shut down like this after they had any sort of contact, like he hated himself for allowing Chris to get so close to him. The brunette had learned to deal with it, not that he liked it much.

Still, he lived for these moments, these stolen moments of passion and intimacy. Where Wesker would allow Chris into his walls instead of always shutting him out.

Instead, he just nuzzled closer to him, absently pressing his lips to the blonde's cheek, kissing down his jawline and neck. He paused at his ear, whispering into it, "Get outta your head. Can't we just enjoy this?"

Wesker blinked slowly, finally rolling over so that his forehead was pressed to Chris', pale green eyes locked with dark brown ones. He hated having his eyes on display, knowing full well they gave away every emotion he was feeling.

Chris smiled a little, moving closer to steal a kiss. "I love you," he said quietly. It wasn't the first time he had said this to the man, but there was still a flicker of fear as he held Wesker's steady gaze. Wesker never said the words back to him, just brushed him off or gave him a quick kiss. But Chris didn't care; he _knew_ the feelings were returned, or else Wesker wouldn't keep coming back to him, wouldn't keep dragging him to bed, wouldn't keep his arms around him all night long. Wesker didn't have to _say_ anything for Chris to know.

That night, though, Wesker did say them back. Such simple words. _I love you too, Christopher_. They were possibly the most beautiful words he had ever heard, coming from those lips, in that dark velvet voice. It was the most perfect night of Chris' life.

He couldn't have possibly known that in the morning, that same man that claimed to love him, would try to lead him to his death. He couldn't know the bitter pain of betrayal, of losing everything you thought you could count on. He couldn't know the heartache of finding out the one you love, the one who claimed to love you back, was nothing but a liar. He couldn't know that he would spend the rest of his life haunted by him, tormented by the memories of the love they once shared.

In the morning, he would know these things. But that night, he was content to just lie in Wesker's arms and believe that everything would be okay.

…

"You okay, Captain?"

Piers gives Chris' shoulder a slight squeeze, his steady brown eyes fixed on the older man's face. Such a simple question, really, but Chris finds himself unable to find the right words to answer it.

A single second goes by, but to Chris it feels like an eternity. And he can see so vividly all these memories, and he feels the pain that he has fought off for so long creeping back in.

Chris swallows the feelings back. Around them, the world lies in total chaos, and now is not the time to break down. Wesker- he finds it hard now to think that name- always told him that in the heat of battle, emotions got in the way of saving lives. And he owes it to Piers to keep him safe, because Piers has been saving his life since the moment the met and Chris doesn't even think he realizes that.

"I'm fine," he says, forcing his lips into a small smile. Piers slips his hand into Chris' own, their fingers interlocking, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks that maybe he really will be okay.


End file.
